Through Forget Me Not Eyes
by flippin coconuts
Summary: While Amara's visiting Mr. Weasley, her father figure at St. Mungos, she's unexpectedly reunited with her lost lover who hasn't the slightest clue who she is, much less himself. GL/OC
1. The Visitor

**LOST ORCHIDS: Through Forget-Me-Not Eyes  
**

Pairing: Gilderoy Lockhart/Amara Orchis (Original Character)  
Rated:M  
A/N: Part of "Lost Orchids" series, but can be read by itself. Takes place during HP Order of the Phoenix.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Chapter 1: The Visitor**

_Wednesday, December 25__th__, 1995_

It was Christmas at the St. Mungos Hospital, and Arthur Weasley was a patient there that holiday ever since last week he dozed off at the Ministry and had been attacked by a very large snake, well an allegedly large snake Harry dreamt of, yet Mr. Weasley did not see.

Standing just outside the Janus Thickey Ward (Ward 49, it sometimes would be called), looking up at the sign just above the ward doors stood one of Arthur's visitors biting her dark lipsticked lip and fidgeting with her raven tresses of hair as she pondered whether _enter_ or_ not to enter._ She was a fair skinned beauty with a heart-shaped face and squared upon her forehead was her distinct family birthmark of a pitch black crescent-shaped moon. She was around Percy's age and was the Weasley family's first foster child before Harry. Her name was Amara.

She heard their voices from behind the other side of the door. _Of all the places they had to wander, why here?_ She muttered softly to herself.

Suddenly the door opened and emerged two figures, one particularly wearing a hat topped off with a stuffed vulture one could not miss. It was old lady Augusta Longbottom and her grandson Neville. Amara gave them a polite smile and wished them a happy holiday, and with that she hugged Neville goodbye sympathizing with him. "_It's okay," _he whispered as always, wiping her tears before he and his Gran walked away.

Amara clasped her palm over her mouth and sobbed, choking loudly in tears. She was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She heard their footsteps approaching, their voices getting louder from the other side, and Amara quickly regained her composure.

**"**There youguys are," were the first words that popped out of her mouth as the door was pushed back and held out by Ron. Harry stepped out along with Hermione and Ginny in tow. "I thought you all were heading for the tearoom."

"We were, but we got a little side-tracked," explained Hermione.

"Yeah, that_ idiot_ over there bumped into us," said Ron pointing to an energetic man with golden waves of hair unaware that he's flashing his pearly white teeth as he etched upon his side-table top with his luxurious feather quill.

"I see," was Amara's only reply as her steady gaze never drifted from the demented man.

"Are you coming?" interjected Harry as he and the gang had walked around her and headed towards the tearoom. It was as if she couldn't hear him. Amara just stood frozen.

"Amara," Harry said slightly nudging her arm with his poking finger. Her gaze broke and looked at him. She seemed lost. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I was just… thinking."

"Okay," Harry understood reveling in the sad moment Neville had earlier with his mother. He assumed she felt the same way too. "Are you coming, Amara."

"Sure, just give me a second. I'll meet you there."

In Amara's complicated life so far, she had found only two loves. Her first love was Percy, whom she's known since she was eleven. At the moment, she and Percy were not on speaking terms due to his obnoxiousness and recent falling out with his family. Amara was the one who in fact introduced Penny, his ex, to him three years ago. Her second love was the reason why she had an introduction take place between the two in the first place.


	2. The Summer Fling

**Chapter 2: The Summer Fling**

It was the summer of 1991 when their fling had begun. It was on a Tuesday because on Tuesdays Amara would be working part-time in Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore on Diagon Alley, helping the manager there deal with strange and bothersome things like books that bite, books that are completely invisible or hectic book signings that draw in quite a crowd that occasionally became unruly at times, and on that particular day, there was going to be one on that afternoon.

That morning, Amara sat in the back room holding a parchment in one hand and a raven feather quill in the other. Two whole flocks of owls arrived with shipments of Gilderoy Lockhart's latest book, and the young woman had to take inventory. She arranged some of the books in the front of the store, in the display window and what was left remained in the backroom, bunched together in even columns that it resembled a low table meeting right at her knees. After making sure the books were accounted for Amara took her hour break and lounged herself on the leather sofa. She picked up one of the new arrivals and scanned the title, _Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart and shrugged with her could-care-less mindset. The young witch relaxed and thumbed through the pages. _He at least knew how to write_, she thought optimistically_._ She found herself getting so sucked in; she hadn't notice the presence of someone that has just walked into the room.

A handsome blonde man dressed in golden robes strutted into the room and noticed her sitting there immersed in his writings. He made his way around the merchandise and sat himself on a table just across from the reading witch. This witch intrigued him. His eyes drank in her beauty as he gazed at her. Her silky raven tresses, usually flowing as he remembered, were drawn in a tight bun. She wore a lilac blouse, which pleased him, and a black skirt with a slit on the side giving him a delectable eye-full as she crossed her fair lily-white legs.

Amara bit the bottom of her crimson painted lip as she continued to read. She was reading _Holidays With Hags _for Merlin's sake and she was on the edge of her seat. _They're bloody hags! _Her mind realized. "_Hags" is just a short word for a hideous toothless witch. There's no reason why I should feel like this over-_

A cough.

The reading witch cocked her head slightly at the noise and glanced at the author. Gilderoy caught her short glance, and for that moment he felt her vibrant charcoal eyes penetrate his; he gasped to his surprise. Amara shut the piece of literature and tossed it on the couch aside.

"Yes sir, may I help you?" Amara clasped her hands together and spoke with false cheer. She was mocking him, but she didn't expect him to notice. Gilderoy just stared at her with a strange gleam in his eye as he always did. This man was relentless, and annoyed her at no end. He drives her so mad, but… she thought positively, at least he was cute, and the wizarding world seemed to agree as well.

"So we meet again. You can't get enough of me." Amara dropped the act and sighed. _Pompous fuck-off._

"Don't act so flattered. I just work here. You know, make a living; pay my dues," the girl said bitterly. He ignored her angry comment and then sat himself beside her. She even smelled like lilac; Gilderoy didn't fail to notice as he inhaled her scent. Amara shifted uncomfortably and then purposely got up just to spite him. She went back to work, well pretended to work as she was already done making preparations for the book signing, but the blonde didn't have to know that. She sat herself on a stack of books and drew doodles on some parchment, not looking up. 

"So what do you think of my new book. You never quite crossed me as a fan of my work before."

"That's because I'm not a fan of your 'work', but I do like a good fiction novel here and there. Great page-turners they are," Amara said sarcastically, secretly smiling in the inside as an astonished Gilderoy opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish out of water. 

Amara tossed her quill, her parchment to the side, and turned abruptly to look up at his face. "How did you-" he barely stammered.

She flashed an innocent smile, and slightly startled, the wizard jumped back. Nervous as a first year at Hogwarts, his smile mirrored hers. He couldn't help it. She was contagious. There was no suffering though. She was a sweet disease causing his heart to pound and caused his stomach to somersault.

"You have such pretty eyes, Gilderoy." Amara whispered silkily tucking a stray gold lock away from his face. He gulped.

"Thanks, they're forget-me-not blue." The young witch just smiled in amusement and walked around the room and back to the sofa with Gilderoy at her heels.

You know, eyes are the windows to the soul," she informed him. They sat. There was a beat of silence. The blonde man anticipated her next words, "and in yours I can see you for the very fraud that you are."

Those last words stabbed him in the heart. Inside he was fuming, but he didn't let his smile falter. He was crazy about her since he first saw her walk pass him in the upstairs hallway of the Leaky Cauldron Inn. She was the witch maid. She had no fame, no fortune. Her position made her as lowly as a mudblood, yet she had this energy to her. She was different. Maybe it was in those eyes that so easily read him, perhaps in the way she held her head up high with pride or how she walked with grace. It had been a wonder how such a beauty as worthy as her, ended up serving a liar like him.

Amara was a young woman; he had realized. Gilderoy was old enough to be her father, that is if he was a father at a much younger age, and yet that fact never really fazed him. He expected her to be naïve like his many fan girls and groupies, but she was anything and everything but. She was wise, confident, surprisingly experienced with a life's worth of hardships, and most of all, she wanted nothing to do with him which seemed to make him want her even more.

The witch sitting before him, the one who had rightly accused him of fraud with taunting eyes gleaming sadistically at his shame was the unattainable. He looked at her like an ice goddess on a pedestal. No woman made him feel like this before, so weak, hopeless and incomplete. He loved her for it, but he hated her more for it. Well, if he couldn't have her-

Gilderoy grasped his wand in his pocket, not sure what hell do next. _Blast her!_

"You know you're a very lovely lady," he said coolly, "it would be a shame if something bad should ever happen to you."

Sparks shot out of the end of his wand. It was aimed for her, but Amara just sat and relax and instinctively with a swift wave of the hand, she deflected his spell/hex or whatever it was he was trying to inflict upon her. At that moment, their eyes widened in surprise. He was mad at her, Amara finally registered.

"What the hell was that?" she yelled.

"What are you talking about?" said Gilderoy, innocently.

"Bullshit! You tried to hex me!"

"Well, you deserved it," he replied as if fact.

"You- How dare you-"

"You called me a fraud."

"So? Does it look like I care?"

"What am I supposed to do? Let you just get away with that?"

"Yes, if you're not a fraud, then you shouldn't even be worrying. I'm a witch maid, a waitress, the bookstore girl. Why do you even bother with me?"

A beat of silence… why did he bother with her, he wondered.

"Because you can see right through me and because you don't care. It's because whenever I bump into you, I'm just Gilderoy," he confessed.

"That has to be the only honest thing I believe from your mouth," said Amara. Gilderoy nodded in agreement.

"Can I keep you?" he said suddenly. Amara looked up at him and bewilderment. _Did he just say-?_ If she were drinking at that moment, she would be sputtering. Then she stared seeing the lust, hope and need through his eyes. It made her shiver, tingles running down her spine as she saw one of the world's most desirable wanting her, showing his true side. Percy could never compare to this.

"But, I'm spoken for. I have a boyfriend." She tried fighting the temptation.

"So?" He didn't care. How could Amara resist any longer?

"Okay, on one condition then…" she couldn't believe she was suggesting this.

"Anything."

"Why, I want an autograph."

"An autograph?"

"Yes, a special one just for me," she purred with a twinkle in her coal gray eyes.

"But, that's ridiculous! You know all my autographs are priceless. I-"

"Gilderoy," Amara said before he began to ramble. She wanted him to humor her. He hummed at the call of his name. She put a finger to his lips as if shushing a child. Out of her pocket she pulled out his familiar peacock feather quill, and she tickled his nose. He grasped it and felt the weight of it. It was his quill alright, but with a slight alteration. Then he observed the tip of it only to see it was transfigured into a tiny paintbrush.

_Sly minx,_ he thought. Amara looked into his eyes and glanced down at herself stoking the collar of her lilac blouse, giving a glimpse of her cleavage. The raven haired witch stood at tiptoe and her lips meet his so chastely. He dropped the quill at his feet and wrapped his arms around her. She tasted sweet, and to Gilderoy's disappointment she pulled away, but only to readjust herself and pull herself closer to him with her arms around his neck, she whispered in his ear, "Just for me."


	3. That's The Spirit

**Chapter 3: That's the Spirit  
**  
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes became an hour, and an hour soon turned to two, and there Amara stood by the open door watching him for what seemed to her would have been her final time. No one has come for her, yet she wish someone would, for in the past two hours she reflected back on her heartbreak from two years ago_. Nothing's changed_, she'd say to herself. She desperately just wanted to let go.

"Gilderoy," Amara longingly whispered to herself.

"Will you be staying long, Miss Amara?" a voice spoke suddenly from behind her. A startled Amara looked over her shoulder. It was a plump woman dressed in a white uniform, Miriam Strout, the Healer. "I noticed you standing here for awhile. I could set-up a bed for you, just like before."

"I don't know, Miriam. I wasn't planning on it. I was just here to visit Mr. Weasley actually, and then off I go," said Amara making hand-gestures towards the exit.

"But it's Christmas," she said in a surprised tone, much like Mrs. Weasley's mother hen. "Where would you go?"

"I don't know," Amara said in an empty tone, looking down at her shuffling feet. She looked up and replied, "I was thinking that maybe  
I'll just end up at Hogwarts and nurse a glass of Ogden's with good ole Professor Snape. Doesn't sound half bad."

"Oh dear, dear, dear. That's no way to spend the holidays," dismissed Miriam. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be cooped up inside in drowning herself in a glass of fire whiskey, especially with a man as cold as _that _professor." Amara chuckled at that, knowing full well after a year working by his side as an apprentice, that the dear Professor wasn't as cold as he seems. Then again, their relationship wasn't one of the norms. Miriam continued, "Soon you'll turn into a spinster. That'll just not do. Do you know what you should do instead?"

"What?" Amara snapped.

"Talk to _him_," she suggested simply.

"You can't mean -" the healer nodded as if to say _exactly_. "It's hopeless. I've moved on. I don't think I can wait anymore. He's in the bloody long-term ward for Merlin's sake. A year and a half wait is enough for me. He's not the same man anymore."

"But that's not his fault is it?"

"Well…" In reality it was his fault, and she knew this too, and not because of what Ron and Harry had told her happened in the chamber their second year, but she had always warned him about the consequences of his fraudulence. Turnabout has fair play.

"It's Christmas," the healer reminded her. "He hasn't had a single visitor since you left, and that was two years ago. Keep him company, only for tonight."

"I don't think so," the witch's firm reply.

"Don't be so heartless. You'd be surprised by his improvement."

"You healers are paid to say that. In fact, you said that last time!" Miriam ignored her little outburst.

"He's starting to pick up some of his old habits"

"I can see that. Look at that dunderheaded smile of his when he's writing." Grudgingly, Amara said. "Perhaps his own name no doubt."

"-but look how happy he is."

"It's like what they always say, _ignorance is bliss_." Miriam stood silently as if speechless by the young woman's bitter remark. Amara lips curled into a smirk at first but then it had faltered as she felt a stab of guilt for being so disrespectful.

"That's an interesting tattoo you have of your face, dear. I don't recall you ever having it before." Miriam spoke idly.

"Birthmark, it's a long story." Amara replied dully.

"How exotic?" chirped the healer as Amara nodded off in silence, her obsidian orbs gazing at her former lover.

"Well maybe you should tell him 'Happy Christmas' at least. Let him-"

"Fuck it! I'm leaving and that's final," and with those words, Amara turned her heel and stormed for the tearoom at last.

_  
Five minutes later…_

"Fat bitch!" the witch mumbled to herself. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"That's the spirit, dear. You're doing a good thing, and on Christmas. It's a miracle. Now go get him." Miriam Strout then closed the ward doors.

Amara approached slowly, the heels of her boots clicked across the tiles. Lockhart lifted his head up as if to flip his golden coiffed hair out of his face, but he stopped as he caught glimpse of her. He put down his peacock feather quill, examined her face and eyed her from head to toe. He is speechless at the sight of this stranger, but suddenly the words slip off his tongue.

"Oh my gorgeous goddess," the blonde gasped.

"Why, hello to you too," the woman greeted him in surprisingly silky tone. "My, my, aren't you a handsome devil-"

"What's your name?" Lockhart drawled along with her, completing in unison. She was amazed he still remembered. Maybe this won't be so bad.


	4. Memories

**Chapter 4: Memories**

"I'm Amara," she said, offering her hand. The blonde man gently grasped it, hesitant at first, and planted a gentle kiss.

"I'm Gilderoy Lockhart, but you pretty lady, I think you should call me Gil. You don't mind do you? I think that would make me very happy."

"Sure, I don't mind." _I always have,_ whispered the voice of her conscience.

"Have you come to see me?" he enquired brightly. He hadn't received a guest in a long time.

"I have."

"Do you know who I am?" Gilderoy was eager, excited, and hopeful.

"I know exactly." _You're the man who had to love himself because no one else would. You're the man who had to steal greatness from others to boost you're ego when your love wasn't enough. You are beautiful. You are vain. You are the result of lonely attention starving child, and for some reason, I'm okay with that. You are a peacock flaunting off bright colored feathers. You're the man I traveled all over the world with one glorious summer before you left for Hogwarts, and I assisted you with your crime. We were lovers once, and it was good. I was your love slave and you, my devious blonde bimbo._

They sat on the bed in thoughtful silence. She didn't know what to say. Their relationship before the accident wasn't easy to begin with.

After a year of knowing him, she wanted to take the next step of their relationship. After a wonderful year of traveling, after a wonderful year of mind-blowing sex, she wanted something serious. She wanted a commitment.

"_Let's get married," Amara suggested. "Let's get married right now."  
_

_Gilderoy couldn't believe his ears. It was just minutes before the press conference and the idea of indulging her at this very moment sounded down right hilarious.  
_

"_I mean it," the witch said firmly. "Forget the gullible twits out there, and we'll just leave, have a ceremony. Let it be hush-hush. Just you and me, two against the world."_

"_I don't know. I can't keep the masses waiting. They'll go nuts."_

"_Let them," she demanded. "I don't care about any of them."_

"_But they love me," he replied lamely. An answer so simple and stupid, and Amara wasn't buying it._

"_So you're telling me that their love is more important than mine?" the witch screeched. If the woman were part veela, she would look absolutely harpy right now._

"_Of course," Gilderoy mused. "Why should I just have your heart only, when I could have millions of theirs?"  
_

_In response, Amara screamed like a banshee, and her horrified stare would have rivaled Medusa's. She felt like stunning him and nailing his bollocks to the bumper of the Knight Bus._

"_You're a real pig! Forget I said anything. I don't want to marry you anymore, ever!" The witch was storming out, disgusted at him but mostly disgusted by herself for putting her faith in him._

"_Amara-" Gilderoy was cut off. The witch had spun so quickly, he lost balance and she poked his throat with the tip of her wand. The wizard was taken aback and held his hands up as if the aurors caught him and was taking him under arrest. The man was defenseless, but knew this was merely Amara's way of warning him. If she wanted to hurt him, she would have done so already, wandlessly. Amara was a young witch, sixteen years of age, but she was mature, having been orphaned at seven and to have fended for herself for so long. There was no doubt she was a strong witch._

"_Don't Amara me!" she hissed._

"_I was being sarcastic. I thought you of all people would know that. It was only a joke." Amara lowered her wand, and slapped the man hard._

"_That wasn't funny to me, Gilderoy!"_

"_Come on. Just listen," he tried to hold her hand, but she slipped it away instantly, refusing to become emotionally victimized any further._

"_No, you listen. The man those fans praise, the hero in their books, isn't real. Their love for you is as true as your writings, and their love can't come close to the way that I've always loved you.  
_

"_I've LOVED you. Doesn't that mean anything? They can't ever love you the way I've loved you. I know who you really are, and I've accepted that."_

"_Fine, let's go. You win Amara." _

"_WHAT!?" she roared. He gave in, but this wasn't how it was supposed to be. She wanted him to love her as much as she loved him. She wanted him to come willingly._

"_Let's go. Let's go get married. If it's what you want, then let's go." His words sounded all wrong in her ears. His voice was resigned, not a hint of enthusiasm. It was insulting. Nothing could calm this hellcat now._

"_Oh fuck you, Gilderoy," Amara hissed. "You win? Bullshit! Yeah, I win. For all I know you only gave in because it might just make the papers. Well fuck you! Forget us! Forget me, and forget yourself!"_

How ironic, Amara thought, looking back at her memories. She got exactly what she wished for. Had that been the last time she ever saw the wizard, then she would have been grateful, but they had reconciled before he left for Hogwarts.

_"I want you to have this." Gilderoy was standing in her rooms, with a ring box in his hand as he kneeled before her. He open the boxed and there laying in the black velvet was an emerald cut diamond engagement ring, centered between two small moonstones on a white gold band.  
_

"_Why?"  
_

"_Because when I'm with you, I feel tingles."  
_

"_That's only because I let you stick your –"_

"No. It's not that… In or out, only you can make me feel this way. Amara, I love you."

Suddenly, Gilderoy spoke. "I still have that ring you left."

"Really?" Amara was perplexed, "and what did this ring look like?"

The man stood up and opened his side table drawer. His hand dug in and removed many letters and placed it on the surface top until finally in his grasp was her engagement ring.

"You threw it at my head… I think."


	5. A Surprising Engagement

**Chapter 5: A Surprising Engagement**

WARNING: Beware adult graphic content. Read with caution.  
  
Miriam the healer was right. Gilderoy had been improving. He may not be able to regain his former memories, but it was possible for him to create new ones. He remembered Amara… well not exactly, but he knew that he knew her face and that was certainly something. Had she understood this sooner, she might have actually stayed with him, but life was much different now, and now she felt guilty.

Amara had been so angry and upset the last time they met. Their third anniversary passed by and the witch just freaked out and left for good.

Ever since his accident, Amara visited Gilderoy every other day of the week for over a year. She would read him his autobiographies and tell him about his childhood, and how they met, but it wasn't enough. She'd quiz him every time she saw him, and to her disappointment, the slate of his mind seemed to have been wiped clean. He'd just stare up her dreamily with his forget-me-not eyes, those loving and lusty eyes, and she couldn't escape. She couldn't resist him. She couldn't betray that unconditional love he gave her. It broke her heart whenever she missed their meetings, but it completely shattered when he didn't even notice how she's always been there for him.

Amara wanted him to be angry if she was gone too long. She wanted him to want her, to feel possessive. She wanted to him miss her, to long for her… but there was nothing, no passion. He was just a yippy little dog, jumping and wagging his tail whenever he met a stranger. Her absent minded lover slipped the familiar ring onto his former fiancé's finger. The band momentarily gleamed, and Gilderoy kissed and held Amara's hand. It was so warm, and he purred slightly at the sensation.

"Are you cold? You're shivering, Gil," the witch said, mistaking his sudden pleasure for a chill.

"No. It's nothing," he assured her. Amara embraced him, so sorry to have left him here all alone.

"Winter must be so cold for those with no warm memories," she said quietly. Amara rested her head in the crook of Gilderoy's neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her closer. Her long black hair covered her face. Gilderoy brushed it away and found that the woman in his arms was weeping. Her eyes were closed.

"Why do you cry, Amara?" Gilderoy asked, stroking her hair. She smelled so good. Lilacs; he didn't understand how he could tell.

"I love you, Gil," Amara quietly professed. Her crying eyes met his, "Why must love be so complicated?"

Gilderoy's hand graced the witch's wet face and wiped her tears away. He kissed her forehead, and as his blue eyes met her gaze, he said simply, "Why does the moon change?"

_It just couldn't be helped._

Yearning for his touch, Amara's lips attacked his mouth. It was gentle at first, but as Gilderoy got over the shock of this new feeling, he returned her ardor. Their tongues mated desperately, but the blond had stop for a breath. He was dazed.

"What was that?" Gilderoy asked her.

The witch told him, "That was me, wanting to make love to you, Gil."

"Oh," he eloquently spoke, "I think we should do this more often."

Amara flicked her wand at the privacy curtain, drawing them closed, and cast a silencing charm. She removed his hospital gown, up and over his head. She tossed it to the floor and planted kisses along Gilderoy's neck. Her teeth gently nipped at his flesh. He growled in arousal, shivers running down his spine. The wizard realized his penis was unmistakably hard, growing long and thick. Quite a phenomenon to him, this only happened in the morning and ended just after visiting the lavatory for a ritual piss, but Gilderoy did not feel like urinating right now. This was something else, a dizzying joy, and he loved every moment of it.

Gilderoy lowered Amara's back down onto the bed and mounted the woman between his thighs. His member throbbed against her belly as he guided his face next to hers. The wizard buried himself in the curtain of her black hair. He nuzzled against the crook of her shoulder, and made his way down to her breasts, rubbing his cheek against the silk-bound supple pillows. Amara's fingers tunneled through his golden curls as she massaged his scalp. Gilderoy felt so good with her nails running gently across his scalp, it put the wizard into a heated frenzy. He needed the woman naked now.

Too impatient to unbutton her blouse, Gilderoy tore her shirt open, buttons flying in a flurry. His hands slide atop Amara's bra-bounded breasts, and teased them through the black lace. He pulled at the offending garment, letting her glorious tits spill from their cups. His callused thumbs swept light circles against her areolas. She gasped in delight, begging for more, begging him not to stop. Gilderoy squeezed her mounds together by the handful and tweaked the rosy buds before lavishing them with his tongue.

He kissed her skin, mouth moving in locomotion, down her stomach as his hand caressed her curves. Gilderoy undressed Amara by slowly tugging the hem her skirt, pulling it lower and lower. The wizard bent her knees, and repositioned himself so his head was in between her thighs. The witch groaned with need. Gilderoy couldn't remember doing anything like this before, but what he felt right in that moment felt so natural to him. Her removed her knickers and found a charming surprise; above her feminine mound was a small tattoo of a heart shaped lock on her pelvis.

"What's this?" he asked her stroking the marking. She lifted her head and told him.

"That was you're birthday present, precious," she spoke breathlessly.

"I love it," Gilderoy said, and he began playing with her like she was a new toy.

**Adult graphic content ahead… Go to next chapter to skip**

* * *

He slipped his fingers below and stroked the slit of her moist opening, and rubbed his thumb against her swollen nub. She bucked wildly against his hand, moaning in ecstasy, moaning at him to hit that spot, the pleasure center, and when he did, she exploded in orgasm.

Gilderoy removed himself from her core and observed his glistening fingers. They were musky scented, and he lapped up her dew clean with his tongue. She was sweet, and quite possibly addictive. He wasn't sure, but hoped to try more in order to find out, but right now his member was swollen and engorged. He desperately needed relief.

When Amara calmed down some, she watched Gilderoy lick his fingers of her taste. Her eyes glazed at every slow lick. She had missed making love to him, and she betted her lover did not realize just how sexy he looked in that moment.

Aggressively, Amara pushed him onto the bed. Gilderoy's on the bottom now, and she makes her way down his waist, aiming to relieve his ache. His cock was red and swollen, and its mushroom tip was weeping. She applied the pre-cum all over, lubricating it. Gilderoy groaned at her ministrations, jerking his hips up for more. Amara grasped his prick, stroking him slowly and twisting her hand along the soft flesh. He was panting. Amara lowered her lips and licked his length, feeling him shudder beneath his tongue. That's enough, she thought. It's time for the finale.

She sat him up. Watching Gilderoy's face light up in excitement, Amara faced him and lowered herself onto his aching cock. She rocked herself on him, in and out. The couple moved in unison, Gilderoy thrusting up hard into her tight wet sleeve. They both cried out wonderfully at the filling sensations. Amara held him closer as their movements become more erratic. Gilderoy reached his peak, and she called out his name, clenching tightly around him. He spilled his seed into her, and soon they fell to their sides.

Facing each other, blissful and sated, they kissed each other goodnight.


	6. A Christmas Present

**Chapter 6: A Christmas Present**

The next morning, Amara returned to Hogwarts in the most awful and foul mood. She stormed through the empty castle, rampantly descending down flights of stairs, and turned sharply into the dungeon corridors. As Snape's potions apprentice, the witch's quarters were adjacent to his private study. Amara entered from her private entrance, not wanting to be seen by her master. She didn't think she was ready to explain the sticky situation she got herself into this time. This wasn't going to be easy to explain at all. But surely enough, Professor Snape forced himself into her room anyway. A look of concern plainly crossed his face.

"What happened to you?" Snape asked Amara. He studied her features. His apprentice looked so broken, an ache panged in his chest.

"Sir, I can't-"

"Forget the title," he interrupted her. "I am not your master right now. Tell me what's upset you."

"You don't want to know," she said with a sigh.

"Don't presume to tell me what I want to hear, witch."

"Well…you're not going to like it," Amara insisted.

"Well, I don't like your secrets," the professor said gruffly, "and I demand that you tell me or I'll look for it myself. Do I make myself clear?"

That broke down her reserve. She didn't want this man, whose respect was one so difficult to earn, witness her graphically copulating with one of the biggest idiot's in the world. It was bad enough she had to confess that it was one of his former colleagues.

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you," she said urgently, and rightly so. If she hadn't, he would have pried, giving him a big shock. "It's just… I'm not used to talking about it."

"That's understandable," Snape replied, almost feeling guilty… almost. She would have told him eventually. He should have given her some time.

"Good," said the apprentice. "Can you please fetch the fire whiskey?"

He quirked a brow at her and turned his heel. _It can't possibly be that bad, could it?_

Her eyes narrowed at him as she watched him leave, and shook her head. _The wizard had no idea…_

Professor Snape returned with two glasses, Ogden's on the rocks. He handed the distressed witch her drink, she tossed her head back and chugged it completely. Amara relaxed.

"I was at St. Mungo's last night…" the witch began.

"Surely, Mr. Weasley is alright. Albus confirmed-"

"I saw my ex," she revealed.

"Well that's to be expected," said Snape, not understanding the problem. "His father-"

"Percy wasn't there…" she clarified, "but my other ex was."

"You're other ex?" he said surprised. He wasn't aware that Amara had dated anyone else.

"My ex-fiance," Amara revealed, showing the engagement ring on her finger.

That morning the witch woke up, tangled in Gilderoy's arms. It was early still, and no one discovered their activities yet, so Amara got dressed, and cleaned up their mess. She didn't want to leave any evidence.

Afterwards Amara clothed Gilderoy. He lifted his arms up, and she slipped his gown back on. It was like dressing a child.

"I'm going now," Amara told him, giving him a peck on the lips

"Will you return tomorrow?" the wizard asked hopefully.

"Do you love me?" she said, lost his eyes.

He brushed strand of hair off her head and kissed her forehead.

"Why does the moon change?" Gilderoy replied simply as he looked up at her face.

"Wait. What? You mean…" Amara spoke in disbelief. She touched her forehead. Her stomach began to churn. Her birthmark - he was commenting on her moon-shaped birthmark passed on to her from her ancestors. It had been glamoured for more than half her life and just recently appeared within the past year.

Why does the moon change? Why is love complicated? These weren't rhetorical questions. These phrases weren't just romantic sewage she fell for… it was all a great misunderstanding.

"What's my name?" she asked him. She desperately wanted him to give her a straight answer.

"I'm not sure, but you can call me, Gil." The wizard told her. "I think that'll make me very happy."

She screamed and left the ward like a bat out of hell. She even snaked past Miriam along the way, causing the healer to drop her chart. _What's got into her?_ The healer wondered.

"Lockhart!" the Potions Master roared. He was appalled by the revelation.

"Yeah, now you see why I didn't want to tell you."

"Since when were you two involved?"

"Since before he started working at Hogwarts. I was fifteen then."

"You were only a child!" he shouted.

"Legally that's true, but even though my number was low, my hardships have certainly matured me. Despite my youthful appearance, do remember, Professor… I'm wise beyond my years."

Come dinner time, Amara sat at the high table with the staff. An eagle owl swooped into the Grand Hall, and dropped a box package onto her plate. Everyone glanced at her with curiosity, including the dour potions master who was still irked by the insight of her romantic history.

The witch opened the box to find some parchments and a key. She observed the items carefully, and looked around for the name of the sender. She learned the package was sent by Gilderoy's lawyer.

Unbeknownst to Amara, when she donned on her old engagement ring at the hospital, the act latently enabled a kind of fidelity charm. When Gilderoy had proposed to her before his short tenure at Hogwarts, the witch rejected him, thinking he would womanize at the first chance the opportunity presented itself. So the wizard re-doubled his efforts, sending endless bouquets of flowers, flawless jewels, fine-spun gowns and robes, until one day he offered the greatest gift of all. Gilderoy vowed on the ring that he shall be faithful and celibate the moment she said 'yes' and until the day of their wedding. With an offer as fool-proof as that, the witch heartily agreed.

What Amara forgotten was that if Gilderoy didn't remain true to his word, a third of his properties, his book royalties, and his bank vaults were rewarded to her to compensate for any emotional damage he may have inflicted upon her. From the looks of the paperwork, Amara now owned a fortune and a cottage in Cornwall.

Apparently, the golden-haired wizard submitted to his urges when a tempting 6th year student offered to do some extra credit. His fiancé was not immediately informed of this indiscretion because she did not regularly wear the ring on her hand, but instead on a chain around her neck. Amara didn't like the idea how the huge diamond would have drawn attention, beckoning questions she rather not bother to answer. So the ring was not tuned to its owner as it should have been, but the magic of the vow was reignited by their passion, their passionate lovemaking that Christmas evening.

At this news, Amara's broken heart filled with joy, so much joy, she grabbed her Potions Master's head and kissed him on the cheek. His eyebrows were stitched at the unexpected contact.

"What's gotten into you this time?" Snape sputtered.

Amara smiled up at him and simply said, "This just became the best Christmas ever."


End file.
